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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200519">BrayTech Gift Certificate, or in which Clovis Bray I gets the Dawning experience he deserves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GladsomePraetorian/pseuds/GladsomePraetorian'>GladsomePraetorian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Guest appearance from Taniks the Abomination, Other, This honestly wouldn't be too out there as a way to bother Clovis, Well crack-ish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:26:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GladsomePraetorian/pseuds/GladsomePraetorian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thank you for choosing BrayTech! Certificate valid only at our Mars branch.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>BrayTech Gift Certificate, or in which Clovis Bray I gets the Dawning experience he deserves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Artificial Intelligence activated - Oh, what is it <em> now?" </em></p><p>There was little in the universe that could truly surprise Clovis Bray's digitized consciousness after all he'd seen and done, but the sight before him managed to give him a hint of pause.</p><p>Guardians. A mob of armed, immortal, foolish thugs arrayed before him, draped in furs and cloaks and scavenged equipment and armed to the teeth in a manner befitting humanity's catastrophic decline in his absence. </p><p>And they were <em> queuing</em>.</p><p>The visual sensors inside of the vast synthetic head that housed his consciousness could see dozens of them within the pristine orange-shaded halls of the small section of Braytech secured entirely from alien scavengers, arrayed in an orderly line that snaked out of the chamber and, according to security feeds, went some ways out into the adjacent rooms.</p><p>"You're a representative of the Clovis Bray corporation, right?" The Guardian in front asked.</p><p>The question sounded somehow like a trap.</p><p>"I <em> am </em> Clovis Bray," he assured them, certainly not sounding befuddled because Clovis Bray I had never ever been so small minded as to be befuddled (Ignoring all of the times Clovis Bray had, in fact, been befuddled, frequently by members of his own family, the mundane necessities of Exobiology, the seeming difficulties in being a decent human being, or by Vex Radiolaria propagating in his bone marrow).</p><p>"There is no greater representative in the universe of the Clovis Bray corporation than-". </p><p>"Great!" The Guardian interrupted chipperly, "Can I get a refund for this?"</p><p>"What."</p><p>In a flash of light, the drone hovering at the Guardian's side materialised a white plastic card into their hand, the Clovis Bray logo clearly embossed in the front.</p><p>"Someone sent me this for the Dawning, but the Braytech facilities on Mars kinda… aren't accessible right now. But it says… here," they tapped a minuscule line of script that Clovis' visual sensors strained to make out  "that I can get a refund by contacting a representative of the Clovis Bray corporation."</p><p>"You want… a refund for a Braytech gift certificate."</p><p>"Well, seeing as the Pyramids basically ate Mars… yeah." The Guardian replied, receiving nods from those waiting behind them.</p><p>"Your kind have gained access to the innumerable scientific wonders of the Deep Stone Crypt - you are speaking to the immortal mind of one of the greatest thinkers of humanity's Golden Age, and you have come all this way... to ask about a <em> trinket </em> peddled by the Braytech marketing department a millennia ago."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Pretty much."</p><p>The universe had truly gone insane. Europa had gone insane. These people were insane. That ever unhelpful interstellar <em> bowling ball </em>was insane. </p><p>Others in the line didn't speak - instead nodding their heads or gesturing at the inexplicably well preserved gift cards in their hands, the <em> dozens </em> of - </p><p>
  <em> Where the hell did they dig up so damned many of these irritating cards! </em>
</p><p>This had to have been Elizabeth's doing. She was the only one still alive who would have been vindictive enough to bother him like this.</p><p>"S-surely," Clovis certainly didn't say with anything resembling a hint of desperation in his voice (he did), "those cards must have expired centuries ago."</p><p>"Actually," the hovering <em>little</em> <em>shit</em> explained, "the small print says that to accommodate humanity's burgeoning immortality and the growing exo population, there is no expiry on Braytech gift certificates."</p><p>"Soooo… how about that refund?" One of the Guardians asked, resting an immense sword on her shoulder.</p><p>Clovis took a moment to contemplate ordering the small force of Braytech security frames positioned around him to open fire on the group of undeservedly immortal barbarians. This option was quickly discarded - observing their foray into the Deep Stone Crypt and his Survival Simulation had demonstrated that what they lacked in respect for the considerable sacrifices he had made (and forced many, many unwitting volunteers to make), they made up for in being tiringly hard to permanently kill.</p><p>He could hardly deny being a representative of his life's work, the Clovis Bray corporation - nor would he be so immature as to shut off rather than continue this… discussion.</p><p>No, these… Guardians were irritatingly useful, now that his ability to exert influence outside of this facility was agonisingly limited. It was hardly a difficult decision to commit to the simplest way to avoid pissing off the crowd of loot-obsessed barbarians queuing in front of him, and yet, it felt like the hardest thing he'd ever been forced to do.</p><p>Idly using what was likely an inefficient amount of processing power to simulate whoever it was (he'd never had time to remember the names of the little people who'd worked in marketing) who'd seen fit to curse him with that refund policy slowly being dipped into a pool of Vex Radiolaria, Clovis allowed an audible sigh to emanate while he scoured the facility systems for any way to get rid of the lunatics bothering him.</p><p>It didn't take long for the search algorithms to flag an answer. An irritatingly helpful answer that still managed to feel like someone was trying their very best to ruin eternal life for him.</p><p>"You can't be serious," Clovis muttered to the facility systems, "Check again."</p><p>Like a slap to his metallic face, the system chimed back near-instantly with the same result.</p><p>Countless scientific marvels and priceless pieces of equipment had been lost to the ages. Much of the Clovis Bray facility had been destroyed entirely (not helped by the Guardians dropping an orbital on some of them).</p><p>The merchandising warehouses that supplied the Braytech gift shops on Eventide however… hadn't.</p><p>Clovis looked back down at the waiting mob, taking a moment to steel himself for what would surely be one of the most demeaning experiences of his life </p><p>"Would… would you settle for an exchange?" </p><p>---</p><p>Elsie actually let herself guffaw as she watched the security feed in her tent, shaking in her seat. It felt good. She hadn't laughed this much in literal lifetimes.</p><p>She was alone, idly sipping at a mug of warm hot chocolate one of the Guardians had dropped off. Despite the twitching head of… <em> something </em> that occasionally cursed angrily in Eliksni from the corner of the room that the Guardians had also brought in, she could happily say that she was probably having what was just about the best Dawning experience of her lives.</p><p>When she'd found that crate full of perfectly preserved gift certificates about four time loops ago, she'd never actually thought she'd have any use for them.</p><p>Telling the Drifter about them had probably been a mistake, especially when the man had gotten that look in his eye. Next thing she knew the entirely useless gift cards had been sent to every Guardian in the Tower back on Earth. </p><p>And now she was watching Guardians eagerly listening to Clovis narrate his way through the <em> entire </em>stock list of Braytech merchandise stored in Eventide. He hadn't sounded that agonized even when he'd been dying.</p><p>He'd finally gotten round to their full array of Braytech plushies, and Elsie couldn't help but keep laughing.</p><p>They were probably all going to die. Again. </p><p>But she was <em> never </em> going to forget this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by some of this year's Dawning gifts. We really need more opportunities to go bother Clovis Bray.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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